Hunter
by Nafai
Summary: A boy trying to find answers, lead him to joining the Bat-Family.
1. Family Values

Part 1  
  
  
  
Dick first found me when I came to Bludhaven. The only reason I moved was to find out who my real dad was. I didn't know whom the man who was pretending to be my father was. Did he even know I wasn't his kid? I thought my real father might have been the man who had been my Uncle Guido. And the guy who I thought was my dad might actually be my real uncle. This was so damn confusing. I hated it.  
  
I was sneaking around a meeting of some Mafia-crime bosses, when I first met Dick. I didn't know his real name, so I only referred to him as NightWing, just like everyone else. Dick was there to bust them. I was there for answers. I knew my false dad was involved with them. When they caught me snooping around inside, they quickly pulled me into the alley to scratch me off. NightWing showed up, knocked three huge guys out, and got me outta there in a matter of seconds. He kept asking me all these questions, about why I was there, and what I was doing. Once I told him, he seemed to completely understand.  
  
Then he told me that my real father had been murdered. I already knew that. It was some other family. That's why I had been hiding with my parents for nearly three years. I still wanted to know who killed my false father, though. It's wasn't like I would miss him. I never even knew him. I wouldn't miss my fake father either. He was just evil. Luckily, I didn't see him much, because of his "business." Business for him usually meant shipping out stolen Mercedes. Or setting up someone to be killed. Or something small like paying off the Mayor. That ended when he was killed two months ago. But because he was dead, I'd never to find out about my real father. I would never find out about how this whole screwed up family mistake started.  
  
I needed to find out who killed him. They would have to know something.  
  
After weeks of researching Mafia-family ties, hospital records, and police records that I stole on-line, I determined who killed my real father.  
  
It was my fake father. My uncle. He had set up for them to be killed. But I couldn't ask him; he had also been killed.  
  
Every lead I found, so far, had been slammed in my face. Both my parents were dead. My uncle, who was actually my biological father, had been killed by my father, who was actually my uncle. This all still raised so many questions. Never mind the fact that I was going out of my mind, thinking about it. Why were they all killed? Well, I guess that was simple enough: they were in the Mafia. But who killed my real uncle, the man who I thought was my father for sixteen years? This answer would solve everything. Whoever killed my uncle, knew that he killed my real parents.  
  
I made a list of all the people I knew of that had the power, motive, and knowledge to this. It was a short list.  
  
The first person was pretty much the Mafia-Godfather of my family. I think he was my great-grandfather's brother. But in the end, I had to rule him out. He had died with my real father. The second person was Helena Bertinelli. She was a teacher, or something, in Gotham City. At first I was skeptical. I didn't think a teacher would try and kill her own father. Then I realized something. If I read my screwed up family tree correctly, she was either my cousin. Or possibly my sister. With all the crazy things I had learned about my extended family, I wasn't sure. But I was surprised. I thought everyone in my family was killed, years ago?!? I needed to meet her, even if she didn't kill my father or uncle. The third person was the doctor who had delivered both Helena, and me. I had to rule him out also, since he died of a heart attack, nearly a year before the entire Bertinelli family was murdered.  
  
That left only one person.  
  
I knew I had to meet this Helena, soon. I needed to see my new cousin. She was a teacher. She must hate the Mafia part of life, just like I did. She would know something about both our parents' murders.  
  
  
  
I took a bus to Gotham, and found her apartment in the phonebook. I unlocked the door with some simple lock-picks. Everything was dark when I entered the room. Guessing that nobody was home, I looked around. I looked on her fridge, hoping I would see a picture of somebody I recognized. There wasn't crap. I checked around the rest of her apartment, checking all the pictures I could find. There weren't a whole lot, and I didn't see any family members that I knew of. I walked into her bedroom, looking for more photographs. I reached over and picked up one the was on her dresser. The man in it was vaguely familiar. He looked around 25, with black hair. I could tell I wasn't related to that guy. But I had definitely seen him somewhere.  
  
"Great, that's gonna be bugging the hell out of me for weeks." I said out loud.  
  
I found out, speaking out loud, when you're sneaking around in someone's apartment isn't a good idea. Somebody quite strong grabbed my from behind, by my shoulders, and slammed me into the wall. The frame of the picture broke, and the glass cut my hand. The broken frame, then fell to the floor.  
  
"What are doing here." The voice yelled in my ear. It was a woman. I was a bit surprised.  
  
"I'm looking for Helena Bertinelli," I grunted. "Are you her?"  
  
The woman paused. It seemed like a minute had gone buy when she finally answered, "Yes."  
  
"My name is Dylan," I said, still grunting. "Dylan Bertinelli. I think I'm your cousin."  
  
I could feel her loosen her grip, slightly, but it was obvious she still wouldn't let me go.  
  
"You're father, Guido, I don't think he's really your father. I think he's actually mine. And my father, who's really my uncle, is actually your father." I said, almost smiling at the overall confusion. "I think Guido was killed by your real father. I wanted to ask him about it, but somebody arranged for him to die."  
  
I paused, waiting for her to say something. Anything.  
"You killed him, didn't you?" I said, being pushed up into a wall. "He killed my real father, Guido. You found out it was him, so you arranged the hit on him."  
  
"You came here to tell me something I already knew" she stated.  
  
"So, you did kill him." I accused.  
  
"I didn't say that." She plainly answered. She knew I was right. I knew it too.  
  
"Then tell me you didn't kill your own father." I dared. She was silent. She could have lied, and denied it. I wasn't in a position to disagree with her easily.  
  
But for some reason, she was honest.  
  
"You're a smart kid." She said, bluntly.  
  
She loosened her grip even more. I knew I could get out of her grasp, now. I didn't think she would harm me, but I still wasn't really sure about her. I jerked my arms quickly. She pushed forwards, trying to force me into the wall, again.  
  
I surprised her by running up the wall, using my feet to propel myself. I pushed off, and she let go, or she would have dislocated her own shoulder. I landed a foot behind her, facing her back. I did two summersaults backwards, as she spun around, obviously surprised. I landed and flicked on the lights. I guess taking three years of karate can really help you sometimes.  
  
Although I didn't know what she looked like, what I saw would never have come close to my wildest guess.  
  
She looked around twenty-seven. Though it was hard to tell behind the mask. She had jet-black hair, just like everyone else in Gotham City. But her clothes scared the hell out of me. For one, she was wearing a long blue cape, that wrapped around her collar, with a golden cross. She had a row of pouches on her belt. On her belt also, was a yellow and black design. The thing was a very tight body suit. It was mostly black, with some blue and purple. I knew who she was. I was in a mob family. Everyone in the mob had to know who she was.  
  
She was the Huntress. Partner to the Batman. And much more willing to kill. Especially when it came to mobsters.  
  
She was also my cousin.  
  
I shouldn't have run.  
  
I was against the Mafia thing just as much as she was. But I had still been raised to fear and hate these vigilantes. I guess my instincts just kinda kicked in.  
  
I spun around, and darted out of her apartment. I knew she couldn't come out as the Huntress, chasing some kid out of an apartment building. I ran to the main stairs. Instead of wasting my time running down the whole thing, I jumped from floor to floor, going straight down. I got to the bottom floor, in no time flat.  
  
I had to lose her. I had to hide.  
  
But how could I hide from someone called The Huntress?  
  
  
  



	2. Making Friends

Part 2  
  
  
  
"Robin, come in. This is Huntress." She called on her communicator.   
  
"This is Robin. Go ahead." He answered over the radio.  
  
"We have a big problem. Where are you right now? I'm going to need a lot of help. But not the 'BAT' kind!" She snapped.  
  
"Ok, uh... I'm was about to go home. I'm sort of close to your place. Why?" He asked sheepishly.  
  
"Someone knows."  
  
"I'll be there in two minutes."  
  
  
  
I ran through the streets of Gotham. Lucky for me; it was pretty crowded. I was less than three blocks away from Helena's apartment. I ran through the streets, not letting anybody take notice of me, or my appearance. I ran into an empty alley, jumped inside a half-empty Dumpster.  
  
I hid inside it for nearly an hour.  
  
  
  
One hour later  
  
  
  
"Robin, Huntress; this is NightWing. I think I found him." NightWing called. "He's just hiding in a Dumpster, in an alley on Beale Street." I'll keep watch, you two hurry it up."  
  
Huntress and Robin both shot off lines, getting to Beale Street as fast as they could. They needed to find this kid.   
  
  
I sat waiting, in a Dumpster. I wasn't sure how long I had been in it. Maybe two hours, I guessed. I didn't have a watch on. I decided to leave. I planed to just jump out, and run into the street, and hopefully get lost in the crowd. I doubted that I would care about my newfound smell. Not that the regular Gotham City air was like roses.  
  
I ended up sitting in the Dumpster for at least another ten minutes, until I worked up enough courage to get up and out. I finally lifted up the cover and swung out. I brushed all the different crap off of me.  
  
I didn't make it very far. Before I took my fist step, somebody jumped on me from above, nearly knocking me out. The little consciousness that I had left was quickly gone. The person, who had jumped on top of me, had now sprayed some sort of knockout gas in my face. I was gone in a second.  
  
  
  
I woke up in darkness. I smelled something rancid right next to my nose. I swatted at it, trying to lose the smell. The smell infested my nostrils, and I felt sick. Somebody used it to wake me up. It worked.  
  
I still couldn't see a thing. There was a bandana or something covering my eyes. I tried reaching my hands up to my face, to remove the blindfold, but they were bound together. Tightly.  
  
I tried to fell my surroundings to determine where I was. It was windy, so I was definitely outside. I couldn't feel anything supporting me, so I was hanging from something. I couldn't smell anything out of the ordinary. But I guess that wasn't surprising after packing in my nostrils with the smell of raw sewage. I was about to call out, when a voice started talking to me.  
  
"You know who I am, don't you?"  
  
It was Helena's voice. I didn't want to answer. You tend not to like to talk to vigilantes when you're involved with the mob.  
  
I gulped. "I do now. But I didn't before. I only wanted to find my cousin; not a superhero." I said trying to somehow 'break the ice,' and giving a weak smile.  
  
"Tell me what you said before." She ordered.  
  
"Oh, you mean at your place?" I asked, remembering the awkward conversation.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh, that. Well, I think we sorta have the same parents. Your dad is actually your uncle, and my dad. And my dad is actually my uncle, and also your real dad." I stated plainly.  
  
She took the blindfold off of my face. I was on a building, tied around the chest, wrists, and ankles. I was hanging from a large antenna, by a rope. I saw somebody in the dark, standing behind her. It was actually NightWing.  
  
"So, does that make us siblings, or cousins?" she asked.  
  
"Unless our moms were whores, we are just cousins, I think." I answered trying to make a joke.  
  
NightWing then stepped out of the darkness. "There is still the matter of your little secret, Helena," he whispered. "What do we do with him?"  
  
I knew what was coming next. Have you ever heard the cliché "I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you?" I figured there was a bigger risk in me knowing her secret identity than just killing some kid. Although I still favored the latter of the two.  
  
"I'm not dealing with him. Family or not. I teach kids, not raise them." She stated, firmly.  
  
I couldn't believe it! They were arguing whose place to keep me at. I didn't care if Helena didn't want me at her apartment. In a way I didn't blame her. She didn't really want anything to do with her family.  
  
"You wuss. Fine, we'll keep him at my place, in Bludhaven. Hell knows I'd make a better parent than you, anyway." He said with a smirk. "Should we tell Bats?"  
  
"Hey, before we decide on my permanent residence, could you untie me?" I asked, somewhat annoyed.  
  
My stomach jumped up as I fell to the floor. I landed on my feet, then fell to the side, landing on the hard floor. I looked up to see Robin, one of the Dynamic Duo, putting a small knife into his belt. He then approached me.  
  
"Turn on your stomach." He said. He then untied all the binds around my chest, wrists, and my ankles.  
  
"Thanks," I said, standing up. Once I was standing up straight, I realized something: Robin was really short. I had to be a good seven or eight inches taller than him. I suddenly felt very impressed with myself.  
  
He turned to Helena and NightWing, "Why do I get the feeling we just got a new member?"  
  
"Keep dreaming. You're just saying that because Kon and Wondy never double-date with you and Steph." I heard NightWing joke.  
  
Robin shot an embarrassed look to NightWing. He took a glanced back at me and said "Hmmm. You look BatGirl's age."  
  
I was ready to take some more of there knockout gas anytime, now.  
  
Suddenly, a beep noise sounded of on all three of them. I then a voice come from all three of them.  
  
"This is BatMan. What is going on? Why are you all in the same area? What happened?"  
  
Helena looked at her two comrades. "Who wants to answer this one?" she asked.  
  
Robin spoke into his communicator; "There was a 420. We got it covered. The GCPD are here, already."  
  
"Alright. BatMan out."  
  
  
  
  
We departed from the building. Robin went to finish his duty, or whatever you'd call it, with Helena. I left with NightWing to his place in Bludhaven. I wondered how long I'd be staying with him.  
  
"Hey, um, NightWing is it? I have a question." I said.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Who is Kon and Wondy?"  



	3. Birthday

Part 3  
  
  
Dick knew it was my birthday. I didn't tell him. But even if he wasn't one of those crime-fighting vigilantes, he could have found out easily. The dude's a cop, here in Bludhaven. You might think being a superhero is enough. He doesn't, and I think he's right, too. This town needs all the help it can get. That's why he's training me.  
  
He said that I had great potential, and that I would be a big help to the world if I became a costumed vigilante like him. I was guessing that there would be better candidates. He said there could be, but it was easier this way, because I already knew so much. That answer didn't really help.  
  
"You broke into Helena's apartment," he asked, "And escaped?"  
  
"Yeah. So what?" I said. "That doesn't mean I am a superhero."  
  
"Anybody that can escape from a trained professional and then hide from three more professionals that long, would make a good professional."  
  
He must have told Helena about his decision. If she agreed, I wondered whose sidekick I would be. Probably NightWing's. Nothing against her, but Helena doesn't seem like the MOST cooperative person. Like when you find your long-lost cousin, and make him go live with your 'coworker.'  
  
Not that I wasn't having a cool time hanging out at Dick's place. He showed me all these different moves for when I would become a vigilante. He called it training. I guess that it is, but for some reason, it doesn't seem like it. I was already really good at fighting. I had taken two years of karate, and one year of ju jitsu. Some of the stuff he showed me, I wondered whether it was physically possible or not.  
  
He also taught me a lot of acrobatics. I laughed when he told me he had been in the circus. I could just picture Dick squeezing into a little clown car with Helena, Robin, BatMan, Azrael, and BatGirl.  
  
He had given me huge files of different vigilantes and superheroes. He said I should know whom I could later work with. After reading them, I was quizzed. After arguing over whether or not this beginning to be too much like school, I was enlisted into the high school in Bludhaven.  
  
As for my birthday, it was awesome. I got stuff from people I didn't even know. I guess they 'work' with Dick. He must have told them about me, and then made them give me stuff.  
  
I was sitting in Dick's apartment, when I started opening my gifts. A guy named Roy gave me two handguns with rubber bullets, and two holsters that went at the waist. A girl named Donna gave me a couple dozen shurikens. Some other guy named Garth gave me a metal Bo-staff. I was kind of expecting a drum set, or liquorice from him, though. Somebody named Vic gave all these different computer gadgets. Tracers, communicators, DNA scanners, and an MP3 player.  
  
One of my coolest gifts was from somebody named Babs. It was a pair of Japanese katanas. They both came with a scabbard and straps that you could hold at your back.  
  
I got Helena's gift in the mail. It was a letter.  
  
  
  
Dylan,  
  
I hope you are having a good time with Dick. He said that he would be training you. I hope it goes well. He also told me that you would be set with all your weapons and other things. I think, when it is official, he could use you more than I could. It would probably be best if you stayed with him. I'd rather you be his partner, not mine.  
  
I am sorry about your parents. I didn't know there was anybody left in the family. But I couldn't just excuse what he did because of mere relations. I don't think you would have, either. If you ever come into that situation, I pray that you can make the right decision.  
  
I know today is your birthday. I already know some of the gift you will get. I hope you like them. My gift is a little different. Dick thought it would be appropriate if I decided on your vigilante alias. I think it would be nice to have another hunter on the whole 'Bat' team. I would like it if you used the name Hunter. If you don't like it, you can use something else. But I think it would be appropriate, considering us being related.  
  
After you read this, tell Dick to give you his gift. I know you will like it. Try no to use it too much.  
  
  
I hope I can see you sometime soon.  
  
Sincerely,  
Helena Bertinelli  
  
  
  
I handed the letter to Dick. He got up and walked to a closet. I had seen the gift there, on the day before. But I didn't want to spoil it. He took out three different boxes. There was no card. I took the first box.  
  
I ripped through the paper, and pulled off the bow. I took the cover of the box off, and put it on the floor. I looked into the box and saw two dark-blue boots, with dark-gray compartments that wrapped around, below the knee. I clicked open two of the compartments, but they were empty. All of them were.  
  
I took the second box, and opened it. Inside was a pair of red, skin-tight pants. There was also a dark-gray belt, similar to the ones for the boots, which went at the waist. All the compartments for these were also empty.  
  
I took the last box. It was slightly bigger than the first two. I again ripped off the wrapping paper and bow. I basically already knew what it was. I took off the top and looked at two blue and red gloves. They both had wrap-around compartments, below the elbow. The gloves were mostly blue, except that they ended at a point on the back if my hand, that pointed to the middle finger, and came around and met on the wrist. The palm, fingers, and thumb were red.  
  
Underneath the gloves, was a kevlar shirt. It was also red and blue. The upper part of the shirt, which ended in points at the shoulders and center of the chest and back was blue, with the rest red.  
  
"Go try it on."  
  
  
  
The whole suit fit me perfectly. I came out of my bedroom and stood, with my hands at my waist. Dick stood up, and brought me my weapons. I put the gun holsters at my waist. They attached to my belt. I slipped the katana straps around my shoulder, one at a time. The straps formed an 'X' on my chest. I picked up the Bo-staff. I pushed in the two ends, and it telescoped down to about eight inches. I wondered were I could store it. Even in it's much smaller size.  
  
"Down on your right leg belt. Tap the one on the very side." Dick told me. I opened the compartment and a leather loop came out. I slid the staff through the loop, and it tightened and was permanently held on my leg. "You can just yank the thing out, and you'll be ready to go."  
  
"So I'm The Hunter now?" I asked.  
  
"Yeah. If you want to use that title." Dick said.  
  
"Sounds good to me." I was kind of surprised that choosing a name was that easy.  
  
"Good. Your training starts next week." Dick stated.  
  
"Training STARTS next week?!? What the hell were we doing before, then?" I yelled.  
  
"Oh, that. Uh, I was just getting you ready." He said calmly.  
  
"So what are you gonna be teaching me now?" I asked.  
  
"Oh, I'm not going to be training you. Well, I still will sometimes, but I've arranged for some of my friends to help me out."  
  
  
  
  
-To Be Continued-  



	4. Hacking 101

Part 4  
  
I began my REAL training the following Saturday. The entire training 'process' lasted about four months. We started off simple. The first unit of study: computers. Dick showed me the basics, and then he took me to a professional; the person who gave me my two katanas for my 16 birthday. I wondered what her real name was. I also thought Babs was kind of an awkward vigilante name.  
  
It turned out her real name was Babs, short for Barbara. Dick said she was THE greatest computer hacker in the world. He didn't tell me she was crippled.  
  
I guess it made sense. She was stuck sitting for the rest of her life. I'd probably be more involved in computers if something like that ever happened to me. Dick said that she used to be a great vigilante. I was glad that she still was able to be a great help. Especially to me.  
  
Dick and I took a train to the middle of Gotham City, to meet Babs at her apartment.  
  
The first thing I saw when I walked in was a computer. Then another computer. Then two more computers. There were six or seven computers in her apartment. Then she came over to me. She was young. A few years older than Dick, maybe. She had shoulder-length red hair, and glasses.  
  
She didn't look the superhero type.  
  
"Hello, Dylan. I am Babs. So, Dick says you want to join the fight for good," she asked, intentionally sounding corny. "After what he's told me about you, I agreed to help."  
  
She immediately sat me down at a computer. For the next month, I would go to her apartment three days a week. After teaching how to do something, Babs would give me an assignment to prove that I completely understood the lesson, and knew exactly how to use it. The assignments started out simple. Computer-to-computer hacking. System programming. Stuff that most intelligent teenagers could do.  
  
Then she started giving me much more difficult assignments. After teaching me more, and more, I'd have harder tasks. Hacking into a protected computer. Hacking into HER computer. Getting files from government databases. I'm fairly sure she planted a lot of those files. Most of them all said 'Congratulations' when I opened them.  
  
My final assignment was the toughest. Babs said it was an evaluation of everything I had learned. I was to hack into what she said was the Bat-Computer, and send a message to Robin. Babs had already written the message. She said I couldn't read it yet, but would see the whole thing when it was sent.  
  
I started at 11:30 in the morning. I sat at one of her computers for an hour and a half before I was even able to find the Bat-Computer. Once I found it, I sat there for another three hours. I was going around passwords, breaking locks, and finding shortcuts that weren't even there half of the time.  
  
I was completely in the Bat-Computer at 4:45 in the afternoon. I sent the message, read it, and then shut down immediately.  
  
The message was surprisingly short.  
  
  
Trans opt. 74843  
  
  
Message sent at 4:47:18 E.S.C.  
  
Message From: Oracle  
Message To: Bat-Comp. /Robin  
Message Header: News Flash!  
  
  
Message Reads:  
  
Hey, Robin, it's your turn. As you can tell by reading this message,   
my work is now done.  
  
Later, Oracle  
Message Ends  
  
Trans opt. 74843  
  
  
  
"What's that mean, exactly?" I asked, partially already knowing the answer.  
  
"You're done with computer hacking. Robin is gonna pick up your training, now." She answered.  
  
"What am I being trained in, now?" I asked.  
  
"Logic."  



	5. Work before Sleep

Part 5  
  
  
  
"Hi. I'm Al."  
  
I was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, when Robin showed up.  
  
"I bet." I muttered sarcastically.  
  
He tilted his head, and stared at me like I had three eyes. "What do you mean?" Backward psychology. Pretending he didn't know what I was talking about so I would think that I was the one who made a mistake. Like I wouldn't spot that. I'm from a mob family, remember. A kid who stole cookies from the counter when his mom wasn't looking might use that kind of trick. I thought this was the guy who figured out who BatMan really was?  
  
No point in arguing now. "Hi, Al. Dylan." We shook hands. He knew that I knew that his real name wasn't Al. He also knew that I knew that he knew that I knew that his real name wasn't Al. So we both went on pretending that his real name was Al.  
  
It started out pretty simple. He gave me different puzzles, and riddles. He had mentioned about how BatMan really had to think about one of them. That one took me two days of guesswork. It went much easier after a week or so. I would notice the patterns and similarities in some of the puzzles, which went together to form an even bigger puzzle, where I would have to start all over again. Luckily, each file all had similarities. Words that were being used more than needed meant something. Puns and phrases gave way to separate puzzles.  
  
We also did a week of forensics, and scientific evidence gathering. Fingerprints, mostly; gathering and deciphering, matching and comparing. I also studied blood testing and chemical experiments.  
  
He also made me read and memorize detailed profiles on people he had worked with, fought, or anyone else that had ever been involved in helping him and BatMan. It was a lot to learn. I went over the files day and night for nearly two weeks until I was able to memorize them all. I also had to review all major crimes that had taken place in Gotham City and the surrounding areas in the last ten years. That took me close to a month. Luckily, I never had to take a memorization quiz.  
  
With three days left of training with him, Al gave me my final assignment: it was to solve a crime that the GCPD had taken. The case was a few years old, so I assumed that Al, Dick, or maybe BatMan himself had already figured it out.  
  
The facts were as follows: A BlackGate Prison Guard was found tied and gagged outside the cell of Lester Buchinsky, Arthur Brown, Titus Czonka, and Avery Twombey. Inside Simpson Flanders, a psychiatrist at the prison, was found sitting in a chair, singing. Four guns were also reported missing from the guard headquarters.  
  
After checking profiles of the inmates, I found that Twombey, also known as Cypher, had the ability to hypnotize and control people's actions. Since Dr. Flanders had a clean background, I assumed that Twombey had convinced Flanders to retrieve guns for the inmates.  
  
"Your assumption is correct," said Al. He handed me another file. "Here's your next clue."  
  
Early the next morning, Twombey was found in the prison's main sewer tunnel, dead. He was shot, with bullets that matched those used by the stolen guns. I checked prison blueprints of the sewer section of the prison and discovered that they could have gotten to the harbor through the end of the sewer system, easily.  
  
"Here," Al handed me a stack of papers that was two inches thick. "Police reports for the next month. The rest is your job. You have all the reports in there except any that give away the answer. You'll need to find the 'Who, What, Where, When and How.' And sorry, but you get no help from me, until you're done."  
  
I made a checklist of all the 'W's, that I would fill out as the information came.  
  
The top file was a misdemeanor by a construction worker who got rowdy on the picket line. Most were small crimes. Speeding tickets, teen drug busts, a robbery or two. Mostly irrelevant to the case. Until I came to a report that was filed by an officer Montoya. Evidence of the three prisoners' escape had been found in the south harbors of the Tinanciai Sector of Gotham. They had made a raft out of milk jugs, and floated through the current. There was nothing more in the report.  
  
I spent the night reading through reports, looking for anything related to the three escapees. It was about 1:00 in the morning when I found a report from county Sheriff Smith. It was reported that Lester Buchinsky, now as the Electrocutioner, had attacked an employee at a motel, outside of town. Smith also made a note about city cops moving in on his jurisdiction. Supposedly, Detectives Bullock and Montoya thought that it was their case, too.  
  
'Great,' I thought. 'Two jurisdictions working on the same case. Getting in each others way, the whole time.'  
  
Sure enough, the next report was from Detective Bullock, with evidence for the same case. They had received, above all else, a clue delivered to the Police Department. There was a photocopy of the clue stapled to the report. It was a cartoon drawing of a dollar sign, with legs, arms and a face of an old man. The man was carrying a cane.  
  
"Old money," I said out loud.  
  
Al turned his head, then went back to watching TV.  
  
Bullock reported that there was no evidence of the drawing at the motel. He also noted that Sheriff Smith kicked them out before they could finish their search, even though they had a county warrant.  
  
I put down the reports and made a list of what "Old Money" might mean. Rich businessmen. Some of whom were retiring at the time. I noticed the richest guy on the list. Bruce Wayne. Papers had reported that he was away on a trip. Business, most likely, or maybe just a vacation. But I wondered if he could be involved somehow.  
  
I shrugged away the idea. The guy isn't even that old at all, anyway. Hell, the guy was rich enough to not need to steal anything. Chances are, he already owned it, anyway.  
  
That's when an idea popped into my head. My mob family had used the term 'Old Money' once. They had stolen a bank delivery truck that had old and damaged bills that were being taken out of rotation. Could that be what Brown, Buchinsky and Czonka were planning. Definitely a big possibility.  
  
I made a note of my idea, and a reminder to check bank records and dates the next day. I looked at the clock. 2:36. I went to sleep, hoping that Al wouldn't show up too early the next. I needed the sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
"Dylan," something nudged my side. "Come on, wakeup time." It was Dick. Stupid creatures of the night. Think they're so cool just because they don't need sleep.  
  
"Time?" I mumbled.  
  
"8:30," Dick said. "Get up, Al is here." Even half asleep, I still noticed his smirk at Robin's fake name.  
  
I crawled out of bed and threw on some jeans and a T-shirt. I went to the kitchen and made breakfast. A bagel with cream cheese and OJ.  
  
"You want anything?" I asked Al.  
  
"No," he said. "I ate before I came over. So how do you think you're coming along with the case?"  
  
"Hard to say," I told him. I pushed away some files to make room for my breakfast on the coffee table, and sat down on the couch. "I'm going at a good speed, I guess. Making good progress."  
  
"Well," Al said. "Just pick up where you left off, yesterday."  
  
I opened up the folder of files, and saw my 'W' list, and my reminder to check bank dates of bill transferring.  
  
Sure enough, every two months an armored car goes to all the banks in the city, and picks up worn-out or soiled bills. There was a pickup scheduled for the end of that week. I checked the date again, just to be sure. Yep, this was in the middle of holiday shopping.  
  
I filled out the Who, What and the When. Still didn't know the Where or the How.  
  
Then I saw two more clues. They weren't police reports, just notes. The first was a newspaper article about building construction at Ellsworth Plaza was stopped because of a worker's strike. I wrote down 'Ellsworth Plaza for the Where. After a second thought, I put down a question mark next to it.  
  
I looked at the second clue. It was a phone conversation with a 911 operator and someone who seemed to be a motel manager. The motel manager had, after giving a room to them days before, recognized Brown, Buchinsky and Czonka.  
  
If the cops knew where they were, there was no way they wouldn't have tried to arrest them. But, knowing the relationship between the county and city cops, it probably ended in a mess.  
  
I knew I was close to finishing this. I just needed a little more information. I read through different police reports for an hour. I looked for anything related to banks, motels, or even the Plaza construction site. But there was nothing.  
  
I was just about to give up, and show Al only what I had come up with so far, when I noticed a paper that wasn't a report. Another clue thrown in. It had to be relevant, somehow, I hoped.  
  
It was a distress call from an armored car picking up damaged bills.  
  
I nearly pissed myself.  
  
I checked the date of the message. It was the same as the 911 call. It was also made two hours earlier. I wondered why it would be so later on in the pile of reports. They were supposed to be in order by date.  
  
I put all of the events of the night into order.  
  
The cops from the armored car made their distress call at midnight, and said that the car was stolen three hours before. So Brown, Buchinsky and Czonka stole the truck at about 9:00.  
  
I looked back at the newspaper article, and hoped I was right with my guess.  
  
They took the armored car to the construction site of Ellsworth Plaza. They hid it, and got back to their motel at 2:00, at the latest. The motel manager called the cops at about 2:00, after seeing them, and recognizing their faces from the news. I pulled out a map of Gotham. It would have taken the cops 45 minutes, at least, to get the motel, from the city. County, however, would probably make it there in less than 20. But there was no way some officers from the 'burbs would be able to take on the ClueMaster, Czonk, and the Electrocutioner. I was positive that that ended in a mess.  
  
So Brown, Buchinsky and Czonka get away from the motel, and end up going back to the Plaza, to pick up the money and make a run for it.  
  
That was it. They hide it in the construction site, because nobody would be around, and come back for the money later. Probably days later, when the heat dies off.  
  
I filled out the 'W's, and collected all the reports I had used and handed them to Al. He turned his head from MTV2, and read through the sheet, and flipped through the reports, seeing which ones I used. He nodded, went back to the 'W's sheet, and nodded again.  
  
He stood up, and I stood up next to him. "Nice job, he said, shaking my hand. "Took you less than a day. Not bad at all."  
  
"I have a question, Al," I said.  
  
"It's Tim, actually. It's okay that I told you, Dick shouldn't care;" he said. "Go ahead."  
  
I starred at him for a moment, then shrugged it off. "Why was the distress call out of order with the rest of the files? It should have been right before the 911 call from the motel manager."  
  
"Oh that," he said. "Yeah, I just moved that one to make it a bit harder. The clues aren't always gonna be right in front of you. You really have to look sometimes."  
  
I would have punched him in the face right there, but I hadn't learned enough combat, yet, to take on Robin. Or Tim. Or even Al.  
  
-To Be Continued- 


End file.
